


Getting Your Attention

by jujubee18



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, kurtbastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:52:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubee18/pseuds/jujubee18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has a deadline, Sebastian helps him sort out his priorities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Your Attention

In Kurt’s opinion, Tuesdays were always the craziest.  It didn’t make sense.  Monday’s should be the craziest days, everyone catching up on things that piled up over the weekend, but this just wasn’t the case.  Tuesdays were always kind of a bitch as far as Kurt was concerned.  
   
The table in front of him was littered with evidence of this insanity.  Half finished sketches, swatches that needed to be stapled accordingly, a handful of messages from buyers he needed to sort through and address, and somewhere, _oh god where had he put it_?, was the latest memo from Isabelle wanting him to come up with a " **fresh idea** **!**!" for the fall line.  With his glasses perched on his nose, pencil behind his left ear, and a cup of coffee rapidly cooling at his right elbow, he looked every inch the young, up-and-coming, latest, hippest fashion sensation.  He felt like a frazzled, slightly crazed, sleep-deprived mess.  
   
The knock on the door was incredibly loud in the quiet of his apartment, and as his head snapped up, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t the first knock (or the second for that matter), as he was totally engrossed in this sketch of a summer dress.  It was supposed to look carefree and whimsical…it was giving him a migraine.  
   
He rose from his chair, joints popping and creaking, shuffling across the bare floors in his socked feet, calling out, “Just a second!" before sliding to a stop in front of the door.  Peeking through the peephole, he drew back in surprise, his brow furrowing.  Sebastian.  Kurt checked his mental calendar, did they have a date?  No.  It was  **Tuesday**.  He took another peek, Sebastian shifted from foot to foot, getting impatient.    
   
Not even bothering to check his hair or his clothes, he pulled the door open with a yank and tried to bring a smile to his face.  It wasn’t that the sight of a slightly rumpled Sebastian didn’t bring a happy expression, but Kurt was so exhausted, caffeine-jittery, and his head was still back on that damn dress sketch.    
   
"Hey", he said.   
  
"Did you get the number of the bus that ran over you?" Sebastian said as he pushed past Kurt into the foyer, the plastic bags in his hands rustling as he walked.  Kurt stared at him blankly.  
   
Sebastian surveyed the apartment, eyes falling over stacks of folders on every flat surface of the living room, a couple of rumpled shirts laying over the back of the couch, and dirty dishes in the sink.  “Let me rephrase — did you get the number of the criminals who ransacked your apartment?", turning away from the mess, his eyes fell on Kurt once more as he finished with, "…and apparently your wardrobe?"  
  
Kurt finally found his voice, “Sebastian?  It’s Tuesday.  We don’t have a date, I’m sure of that because Tuesday’s are crazy for me, and I wouldn’t have scheduled one.  I wasn’t expecting company obviously, and besides, if we’re going to start wardrobe bashing, we might address the fact that you look like a hipster college student, backpacking his way through Europe on $10 a day.  I mean, honestly, what is with the beanie?"    
   
The grin widened on Sebastian’s face, eyes lighting up as Kurt moved past him on his way back to the table.  Kurt would never admit it, but if anyone could pull off that vagabond look, it was one Sebastian Smythe.  And as he stood in Kurt’s foyer, blue beanie perched on the back of his head, rumpled green henley open at the throat exposing those lovely freckles, and jeans that seemed to be tailor made for him, Kurt finally noticed the plastic bags.  He quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head toward them.  
   
Sebastian ducked his head and raised his arms outward, “Since I  _did_ realize it was Tuesday, and I  _do_ know that you’re busy, I thought I’d bring you some take out, maybe steal you away for a few minutes to decompress."  
   
Kurt’s expression softened.  “Seb…" he began.

But Sebastian cut him off, “Besides, I’m starving and I don’t want to eat alone”, he moved to the kitchen counter, shoving aside stacks of papers, pulling from the bag several cardboard containers. The delicious smell of Thai food drifted in Kurt’s direction, his stomach’s reaction a reminder that he had consumed only a handful of M&M’s and three bites of a granola bar in the last seven hours.

“I really don’t have time to take a long break, but I guess even Marc Jacobs needs to eat…”, Kurt began, leaning against the fridge as Sebastian went straight to the cupboard, pulling out plates and glasses. It struck him as he watched Sebastian, how comfortable he seemed in Kurt’s space, opening and closing drawers with the sexy jut of a hip, reaching into the refrigerator for cans of soda barely glancing inside, just knowing where Kurt kept them, all the while talking about his day. Honestly, Kurt was only half paying attention to the words, he was too busy just watching this man in his kitchen, finally retrieving all the items needed for their dinner, removing his beanie, and kicking off his shoes, before grabbing Kurt by the wrist and tugging him over to the island.

“Alright wunderkind, dinner is served.” Sebastian smiled.

They ate standing at the counter, not much conversation between them, aside from the perfunctory, “How was your day” and “Is 4th street still under construction”, etc. Kurt tried without much success to stop himself from glancing over his shoulder at his work table. The third time he had tried and failed, Sebastian sighed, raising up from his elbows where he was leaning over his plate, and said, “Obviously my stellar charm and wit is not enough to distract you from your appointed tasks, so go on – genius waits for no one, not even me apparently..” He laid his plate in the sink, and then turned and grabbed Kurt’s half-eaten one as well. “I’ll just box this stuff back up and you can have some more later when you remember to eat again.”

Kurt wiped his mouth on his napkin, and then came around the island to stand behind Sebastian at the sink. Placing his palms on the counter, either side of Sebastian’s hips, he laid his cheek upon Sebastian’s shoulder blade and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry that I can’t give you my undivided attention, Seb. Isabelle is expecting me to be brilliant, and I’m feeling the pressure more than usual to produce something amazing.” Sebastian turned in the bracket of Kurt’s arms and pulled him into a hug. “Not to worry, I’m not going to wilt like a week-old flower just because you’re not hanging on my every word, Kurt, I’m not a child. Now, go on and do your thing.”

Kurt smiled up at him, closing his eyes as he leaned in for a soft kiss, humming against Sebastian’s mouth, and murmuring, “I do appreciate the food, though, thank you for bringing it and making me stop to eat, I feel much more energized and inspired now.” Sebastian chuckled, lips still inches from Kurt’s, and whispered, “Seems a damn shame to waste that energy and inspiration on drawing clothes, when you could instead be removing mine.”

Kurt “hmmm’ed” and reluctantly pulled away from Sebastian’s embrace, “Nice try, but is IS Tuesday, and you knew what that meant when you came over here”, he said loudly over his shoulder as he moved back toward the work table. Sebastian smiled and turned to load the dishwasher.

A few minutes passed and Kurt could feel himself sinking back into the process, a line or two there, would a zipper or buttons work better, a ruffle? God, where did that come from, no, definitely NOT a ruffle. The clatter of a pan jerked him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Sebastian grinning sheepishly from the kitchen doorway.

“Seb? I assumed you let yourself out a while ago.” Kurt said, glasses pushed down on his nose.

“I thought I’d save the Health Department a trip and clean up this kitchen, but you’ve got your pots and pans stacked up like a Jenga game in this cabinet.” Sebastian grumbled.

Kurt pulled his glasses off, and holding them between his fingers, rested his chin on his hand, smiling softly at Sebastian’s annoyed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that, I’ll get to it all tomorrow. Once I turn these designs in, I’ll be able to catch up around here.” Kurt said.

Sebastian walked through the doorway into the living room, bypassing Kurt’s chair and moving toward the couch. “I don’t mind, Kurt, and you know my apartment is so much tidier than yours, it’s a Smythe trait, I guess the fact that we always had maids made me value cleanliness and order.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow at that, “You did not just throw that in casual conversation, did you? I keep my apartment neat as a pin usually, and you damn well know it. Do I need to remind you again that I wasn’t expecting company this evening?”

Sebastian picked up the rumpled shirts off the back of the couch and laid them over his forearm, smirking at Kurt’s biting response. He turned his back to Kurt and bent over at the waist to retrieve a sock that had managed to work its way under the coffee table. Kurt was given a lovely view of backside as Sebastian seemed to take his sweet time picking up the sock. Kurt’s mind went a little hazy, just checking out how those jeans stretched so nicely in all the right spots, shirt riding up just a little to expose a strip of skin, and even from this distance Kurt could see three freckles just above the now exposed waistband of Seb’s boxer briefs. And even if he hadn’t been able to see them from this distance, he knew they were there. Had spent many a night mapping those lovely spots with his hands and his tongue. He could probably draw them from memory. Draw….Draw….sketches…designs…

_Holy shit_ _._ His eyes focused again, coming back to himself, just in time to see Sebastian round the corner into the hallway, presumably heading for the laundry basket that Kurt kept in his room.

Kurt cleared his throat, put his glasses back on, and returned to the sketch. It took much longer this time to get back into the creative groove, but he did. Time passed, and he was just working on the collar, he had two designs that he felt would work equally well, when he smelled lemons. Lemons?

He turned his head and was treated to a lovely sight. Sebastian was dusting his bookshelves. He closed his eyes and kept them closed for a count of eight, then opened them again. Nope, not a delusion. Sebastian had the furniture polish and a rag, and was removing each knick knack and dusting each shelf. Even with his height, he still had to stretch to reach the topmost shelves, and it was doing the most amazing things to his calves. Even through the denim, Kurt could see the muscles straining and releasing as Sebastian went up on his toes and then down again. And he was humming. Some soft little tune that Kurt didn’t recognize.

Kurt’s traitorous mind began to wander again, remember how those calves wrapped behind his back the last time he had Sebastian underneath him in his bed, pulling Kurt closer against him, holding him there tightly while Kurt sank further and further inside him.

“Kurt?”

“Hmmm?” Kurt snapped back to reality. “Sorry…what?”

“I asked if you needed anything?” Sebastian said through a wide grin.

“Um, no, nothing….” Kurt turned back to his work, and then back again to Sebastian. “Seb? Why are you doing this? Don’t you have some legal documents that need your attention tonight? Or some young stud at the local dance club that would love to rub up against you for a while?”

Sebastian’s grin dropped off his face and his expression became stony. “I just thought I’d help you, Kurt. I had a light caseload today, and I have no desire to break yet another heart on the dance floor at that poor excuse for a club. They use Seagram’s gin in their martinis, for God’s sake. It’s so pedestrian.”

Kurt chuckled softly as he resumed his work. But within two minutes, he could hear Sebastian’s humming again, closer this time, as his dusting brought him closer to the table. Finishing up, he headed back toward the kitchen. As he got behind Kurt’s chair, he paused and leaned down, his chest brushing Kurt’s back lightly. Kurt sat perfectly still as Sebastian’s hand came into view, reaching for Kurt’s empty coffee mug. Taking an incredibly long time to retrieve it, Kurt smiled as he felt Sebastian’s breath against his cheek. “Let me just grab this, Kurt….give you a clean workspace…and then I’ll be out of your way….” Kurt was starting to doubt that Sebastian  _wanted_ to be out of his way. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate the help, and heaven knows his apartment was a wreck, but this was so uncharacteristic of Sebastian that it was throwing Kurt off balance. He was so close, and damnit, he was wearing that cologne that Kurt had given him a few months ago. They had gotten some new samples at Vogue and Isabelle had urged Kurt to try it. The smell was spicy and had a woodsy bite to it, and Kurt had thought of Sebastian immediately. He could just imagine burying his face in that really comfy spotin Seb’s collarbone and breathing deeply of it.

Sebastian was still in the same position, coffee mug in hand, but he had turned his face into Kurt’s neck and was nuzzling the tender skin there. Kurt cleared his throat, “Seb? I, um, this is kind of a crucial part of the design, I need to concentrate.” Sebastian pulled back immediately, humming all the while, “Of course, Kurt…I think I’ll just see what else needs to be done around here.” Kurt turned his head and watched Sebastian walk back toward the kitchen, coffee mug, dust rag and polish in hand, swinging his hips in the most enticing way. Looking back down at his design, Kurt sighed deeply and cursed Tuesday.

That was it, the collar was perfect! Kurt had a bolt of inspiration hit a few moments after Sebastian left the room, and he couldn’t believe he didn’t see it before, this style was just what the dress needed, and he smiled to himself, knowing that Isabelle would feel the same.

He turned to share this with Sebastian, but the words dried up in his throat. Mother of all things holy, Sebastian was mopping the kitchen floor. He had removed his henley and was left in a plain white undershirt. His socks were gone, and he had rolled up the cuffs of his pants. Kurt rested his chin in his hand again and took in the sight. Too much ankle. Too much shoulder. Way too damn much bending and stretching.

This was, as they say, the proverbial last straw. Kurt slowly removed his glasses and set them on top of his sketch. It was, for all intents and purposes, a finished product. He could afford a break. He tip-toed over toward the kitchen doorway, eyes never leaving Sebastian’s body, back turned to Kurt, his biceps flexing with every push and pull of the mop across the floor.

“Set a toe in here, and I will skin you alive. I did not spend 20 minutes cleaning this floor for you to put your dirty socks on it.” Sebastian said in a loud voice without even turning around. “You can wait another few minutes until it’s dry to get your Diet Coke fix.”

Kurt said softly, “It’s not Diet Coke I’m after.”

Sebastian turned at that, resting both hands on top of the mop handle, lowering his chin down to rest on top of them. Kurt watched his eyes widen, and the grin spread across Sebastian’s face as he realized he had Kurt’s full and individed attention.

“About damn time, Hummel…Usually doesn’t take me this long to get what I want. You’re lucky I’m so patient. However, your timing stinks, I did mean what I said about the floor, it’s way too clean to be having sex on.”

Kurt stood on one side of the doorway, socked toes curling into the carpet, sketches forgotten, the only thought in his head all the wicked things he wanted to do with this man in front of him. Grinning mischievously, eyes never leaving Sebastian’s, he yanked his shirt up and over his head as he crossed the threshold into the kitchen. He heard the mop clattering to the floor as Sebastian went for the button of his own jeans.

Stepping close to Sebastian, Kurt murmured softly, “Do you think I’m going to become a brilliant designer without learning to improvise? Who said anything about the floor, these counters should work just fine.”  

 


End file.
